No child in their first breath, fears those leaders who wish to silence their next.

Let us empower their lungs, sharpen their words, and chisel our wisdom into their bedrock.

The stars in our eyes are destinations afforded only to the brave.

We are the sacrifice to the next generation, as is our purpose, as is their evolution.


~The Human Race


I live here


The world claims I’m mentally below average by the grade on the paper that seems a bit drippy with red ink.  But alas, fear not good sir, for I did not create the normative scale that so blessed me.  Crazy right?  There are so many people in the world that are on the isle of misfit minds today.  Do you remember when the scales weren’t justice, when they were merely the dream of one who claimed to be holier than thou.  It’s an idea, the exam, the code, the police, the jail.  Mind your prison so that you can see the fallacies of a brain not bound by the structures of your own bars.  Stop, think, that mental grenade just went off where your dogmatic morality questioned its heritage, its godly origin.  Way back, think farther, now-stop. 

People of old claimed that God gave all thoughts to and of man, until man decided that he wanted the glory, and got rid of the middleman.  That same man, who claimed to be holier than thou patented a new way to copyright under his own trademark. 

You only get so many moments in life, whispered the white beard to the black beard.  They have been hailing me “the last tycoon.”  Sadly, I concede.  But I would imagine you had claimed a mental stake in the now forewarned land.  Nevertheless, history is rarely kind to those who do not own the means to rewrite it.  Currency has its favors in due form, but whether gold, destruction or letters on a page, you are but a cat in a cage that I built.  Figure out how to bend the bars with your mind and you will steal my title, said the aging face with the challenging eyes.  Watch the constitution swallow you whole if you surround yourself with those of a singular gaze.  And tick, tock, tick, tock, big hand moves the little hand that will never grow up.

It’s time to wake up ladies and gentlemen, and so rings the biological pocket watch.  Please throw out your notes, stare at the page I’ve handed you, and repeat after me.  We the people, the dying, the hungry, the wealthy and we the people, the dogs the horses and the lions see only the four corners and refuse to redefine thus by carving, tearing and erasing the remains.  We the people throw out our teeth, as our words do not deserve to be armed.  Please repeat after me, that we the people, so choosing, so blindly ignorant with the warm fountain of history behind us say yes, yes, yes.  The colder whitecaps will remain at bay for now until the yacht ships the storm into this well charted territory.  And so it is said, and so it is written, Article 1, Section 2, Subsection 3, Paragraph 4, Finding 5.  Stand slowly, straighten back, palm applauding palm, and thy shadows consumed me all at once, while I search my hope for that glimmering light.


Walter Rudolph Hnot III, MBA, JD. MM32


Day after being raised to a 32 Degree Mason.